ET Phone Lambo
by sweet-and-simple
Summary: "Are you a VAMPIRE?" "No." "Then what ARE you?" "I am an advanced life form."  Lambo paled and sat up suddenly, twisting himself until he nearly fell off the opposite side of the bed from Reborn. "You're an ALIEN?" RL


As an advanced life form, it had never had the troubles of having to determine its own gender, sexuality, features, personality, education, and such because it was, simply, an advanced life form. It was of nebulous proportions, which was to say that it was shapeless, and in no way needed to fit in any single one of those categories. It had no need to reproduce, and so had no reason to attract a mate – ergo, no need to have a gender, to choose a sexuality, or to have a form in which to attract a mate with. It had been conceived already knowing all the secrets the universe held and so never bothered with further education.

But then it got bored. Bored was a strange word to use, as it felt no emotions, but bored was, by definition, to weary by dullness, tedious repetition, unwelcome attentions; a dull, tiresome, or uncongenial person.

It was weary by the dullness that consisted of its existence – not so much life as it was certain it did not fit any modern terms of "living". It was of gaseous components, like oxygen, and oxygen was not considered alive either. The difference between it and oxygen, however, was that it could think and, apparently, be bored.

It could do something oxygen couldn't.

It could make itself a body.

Though it took years to construct such a design as that of a humanoid's shell, so many cells and neurons and particles and _thoughts_ that went into making a single suit. It would have been easier, it would later conclude, to simply make a shell out of a tube such as the humanoids have progressed to do.

And it assured itself that, come the time of its suit's expiration date, it would do that.

It stepped into its newly finished suit.

It was… small. The suit, that was. It as a being was rather large; roughly the size of the universe if not just so. It took a moment to think about this.

Though it knew everything that had been, was, and would be, it occurred to it that it had never really paid attention to every single detail to such a point as to _understand_ everything. Why bother? To it, the death of a star and the birth of a new one happened in the blink of an eye – though that was a poor example, as it had no eyes, but a valid one nonetheless.

It was older than life and it did not realize till now that it in all honesty only knew the basic assumptions of what the Human Race was like.

It knew that the Human Race was a selfish, greedy, dirty species that would inhabit a small, inhabitable planet for only so many millennia before being destroyed by…

Why was everyone staring at it?

And why were they asking it if it was lost?

It looked up into the concerned face of a woman. "Poor baby," he said – or was it a she? What was a woman? No, it was a she. "Where is your mommy?"

It looked into the specimen's mind. Ah. So it had blindly created a suit to resemble a human infant. As it so turned out, human infants were to be kept in the care of their creators, their "mom" and "dad".

This woman, it also learned, considered it a "boy" for such characteristics as not looking like a "girl". Also, it had something to do with its "willy".

It looked down at himself. It had heard of humans who wandered about without clothes. Was it wrong to assume that that was an earth habit? Yes, it had been.

It needed clothes, though no one appeared overall horrified at its naked state as they assumed it was just a "little boy" who had run off before his "parents" could "clothe him".

It had only been on earth for a few minutes and already it knew so much more than it had thought it had known when it had been full of universal knowledge.

It searched for the proper dialect as was expected of something such as it… _him_, especially at… such young of age.

"I'm looking for momma," _he_ settled for finally. The woman seemed entranced by his eyes and so he widened them impossibly to convince her. "I can't find my momma."

And then he walked on, supposing this the end of that conversation. He would have to make clothes for himself, which he was certain would be much easier than it would to create a whole other, more mature body. Though, for now, this was much more useful.

As an infant, he was deducing, it was much easier to ask questions because he appeared so young. If he was older and had been walking around bare or asking questions that other humanoids took for granted, he would have been placed in an asylum or penitentiary.

Yes. Subconsciously, though he had no subconscious, he had chosen well in the suit he had made for himself.

How old did he appear? … Between one and five years old was the average guess of those around him. He would tell people that he was one, so as to have maximum allowance in his actions.

One year old with an enhanced vocabulary.

It would work for him.

Now he needed a name, as he appeared to have already created a profile for himself.

"_Yare, yare_…"

He looked up into the strained expression of a young male – a teenager. "What are you doing walking around with your little man on display? Don't you know there are perverts around? Oh, I see… You're too young. Well, where are your parents?"

He studied the humanoid. Attractive. Handsome. Those were some of the words he caught from other minds as they turned to look at the teenager. Beautiful. Cute.

'_Look at his ASS!'_

He did so, simply because that thought seemed to be electrically charged with excitement and something he faintly understood to be _want_.

The teenager took a moment to realize what he was doing and he could read his mind and how it swirled with thoughts of _pervert baby_! "H-hey! What are you looking at, kid?"

"Your ass."

The teenager flushed red. It was called a blush. "Let me give you a lesson in respect, little guy…" He crouched down as if he could shrink to be on his level.

For one reason or another, he appreciated the attempt.

"Don't go staring at other people's behinds. And don't run around naked. It's not nice to be so focused on someone's… intimate parts."

"Intimate parts?"

"Their… privates and yoo-hoos and… where _are_ your parents?"

"I don't know." He filed away the information he was receiving. It was all vaguely interesting. "Mommy?"

"I don't know who your mommy is," the teen drawled.

He frowned. "Are you my mommy?" he rephrased.

The teenager's blush grew darker. "I'm a guy!"

Somehow, this was an answer?

Oh, it was a reference to the male's gender as to point out that, as a "guy" (i.e., as a man), he did not have the reproductive organs to produce a child and therefore fill the "mommy's" role.

"Mommy?"

"_Yare, yare_… I see you're a handful of trouble."

That made no sense to him. He was small, true, but not as small as a handful and most certainly not composed of "trouble". Trouble was not even of a particle formation, only an ideal of a personality…

Oh, he got it. It was an idiom. Not meant to be taken literally.

"Well, I can't leave you wandering around with your manly bits out. I might as well bring you home and we can figure out what to do with you from there."

The male stood back up and put down his packaged contents – groceries – to remove his top layer of fabric – a shirt. The teenager than commenced putting it on him and tying it firmly around him so as not to hinder his movements.

"Now hold my hand so you don't get lost, alright? What a day this has turned out to be," the male continued to talk to himself as he did as commanded and held the teenager's hand.

It was warm.

It pulsed with life.

He stared at his own small, pale hand. His suit had failed already.

He had, in not comprehending the importance of it, no heart.

~::~

Books.

There were many of them. In the teenager's small apartment alone, there were twenty-eight, six of them discussing electricity to some extent, whether by studying the neuron, the basic unit of the nervous system, or by pondering the likes of which caused a thunderstorm and pointing out that lightening was so many times brighter and hotter than the sun per strike.

Three were of them were children's tales.

Four of them concerned cows and other livestock.

Five of them were Gay Porn magazines.

Seven of them were romance novels.

Two of them were photo albums.

One of them was a private journal.

_May 2, 20XX – _

_Dear Journal,_

_I think I'm in love with my physical trainer…_

_June 1, 20XX – _

_Dear Journal,_

_False alarm. He's just a really awesome big brother… like everyone else. Why is it so hard to find love? I mean, the romantic kind of love? _Yare, yare_, I must just be more the little brother type…_

"H-hey! How did you find that?" The teenager, Lambo, as he had learned his name to be, rushed towards him and ripped the journal from his clutch.

He was alright with that. He had already read it three times, once having been enough, but the other two times for the sake of reading. He was finding reading to be an enjoyable activity.

"… Were you _reading_ my journal?"

Did one year olds know how to read?

He shook his head and widened his big eyes at Lambo, as he had learned did well to distract others.

No matter if they did, _he_ most certainly did not. That was the story and he was building it as he went along.

Lambo sighed and rubbed his temples. "I have a crazy baby in my apartment with no clue what to do with him…"

Every one of Lambo's attempts to contact the authorities and locate his nonexistent family had proved to be fruitless. Whether he tried to walk down to the nearby detective agency or contact the police, he constantly failed to come any closer to reuniting him with some organisms that weren't real.

Mostly, that was because he made certain of it that Lambo never found anyone to look into his case. For three days, he had kept Lambo under his thumb without the teenager consciously aware of it. It would only end badly for him if the authorities tried to relocate a young boy who had no where to relocate to.

As it was, he… was amused by the foolish Lambo. Yes, he was, if a large quantity of people were to be believed, aesthetically pleasing. But the interest went further than that, he was… quirky.

At one time, he was cowardly, running away from a smaller, blue-haired girl that demanded a fight. While, the next day, he carelessly threw himself between a small undeveloped feline animal and a group of large canines, though he had then run away once more. At least he had done so with the feline in arms.

He could not be sure if it was his meaning to imitate the very feline he held by dashing up into a tree and wailing from there for help as the canines roared and yelped at the trunk. Nonetheless, he had… smiled.

His lips had moved upwards because he had been humored.

Interesting.

Next he learned that Lambo had many dear friends that he loved with all his heart. He appeared to enjoy annoying them, but, in the same breath, it was obviously his goal in life to keep them happy.

How strange.

Lambo also had, what he had come to know were called, "expensive tastes", and yet was himself not rich (though his adopted family appeared to be so). This was where he realized that Lambo was incredible at managing finances.

Lambo also enjoyed fashion, though it appeared that no one agreed with his fashion sense.

He himself was… pleased. Lambo picked out his attire and it fit him snugly and he felt more mature with it on. It was a black suit with a yellow undershirt and a black tie. Lambo also gave him a hat – what was called a fedora – and then purchased for him a means of entertainment: a stuffed toy. Apparently, it was a mimic of a chameleon. He could hardly see the resemblance but found himself nonetheless _cherishing_ the small mishap.

He named it Leon. Or, more truthfully, it had named itself Leon, as the tag attached to the seam under its back right leg said. Leon had a birthday, if the same tag was to be believed.

This inanimate object had two more things than he did.

He felt a new emotion. It was called frustration.

"What _is_ your name anyway?" Lambo eventually asked him. "You think I would have known it by now…"

"You would have?" he asked and then realized that Lambo was not saying that he should have magically procured a name for him out of thin air by this time. He frowned – and that as well was a new experience for him.

Lambo gave him a strange look. _'What a weird kid,'_ he thought.

He knew what weird meant. He would one day get back at Lambo for calling him such. Was "asshole" better or worse in terms of being a better way to curse someone?

Better.

He looked carelessly around the living room. And then uttered, "Reborn."

"Reborn? Oh, you want to watch _Reborn_? _Yare, yare_, I don't think you're old enough to watch such a scary movie…"

As it was, muttering the word had been inspired by looking at the DVD collection. His decision was finalized, not because Reborn happened to be a horror movie, but because of what it defined.

Born, or as if born, again; converted; having undergone rebirth.

Did he not fit all those descriptions?

"My name," he repeated, "is Reborn."

Lambo scratched his chin. _'A weird name for a weird kid.'_ "Alright, Reborn. Pleasure to meet you, I'm Lambo." He reached out a hand to shake his with.

Reborn took it. "Pleasure to meet you, asshole."

~::~

Jealousy.

Reborn knew the definition, knew what it applied to, but was startled to realize that it was ridiculously difficult to deal with.

Lambo was performing fellatio in the next room with another male humanoid, believing Reborn tucked away and asleep in the hammock Reborn had netted together for himself. Reborn did not sleep. He had no need to.

"_Lambo, you're so good… How are you so good?"_

He could hear them. Not through the wall, Lambo had already sworn his partner to whispers, if not silence, so as not to disturb him.

He heard them in him. Or, in his mind, as far as the Human Race would be concerned. He could tune them out, such as how he did with the rest of the universe, but the _jealousy_ that festers in his fake chest commanded him to do something as stupid as this – listening in – as if it will solve something.

And then he felt… hurt. Hurt? Yes. He had no heart in his chest, but something still squeezed painfully tight near the region a heart should have been. He squeezed Leon in his fist just as hard as this invisible force attacked his thoracic cavity.

"_Come on, Lambo, I want you around me, not just your mouth."_

The rage he felt fanned like a fire throughout his body.

Lambo, he projected to himself, is _mine_.

He left his room and charged into the one next to his, door slamming open and punching a hole through the wall with its knob.

Lambo, who had been in the midst of climbing up into the lap of a very obese, very _un_attractive male with thick lips and droopy eyes, yelped and fell backwards, narrowly being caught by his mate.

"Uh, Lambo, I think your kid is here…"

"Really? _Really_? I told you to be quiet!" He reached around the man and grabbed a thin sheet, wrapping it around himself. "Put something on!"

He pranced off the bed and ran straight to him, crouching down in front of him. "Are you alright – gah!" He slapped a hand over his mouth and spoke through it. His other hand reached out and brushed away a spot of something white from Reborn's sleeping attire. "Are you alright, Reborn?"

"No." He was not. "Make him go away."

The man in question was already getting dressed. "For a one year old, his vocabulary's pretty good."

"I know it," Lambo sighed. "_Yare, yare_, we're going to have to do this another time, Rauji."

He shrugged a huge, meaty shoulder. "It's alright with me. We'll give it another shot when you find where the little tyke lives."

"Yeah…" Lambo slid his eyes guiltily away. "When that happens."

It had already been a month and three days. Reborn now felt certain that, when given the chance, Lambo would not take it to report Reborn as a missing child. He had passed the police on several occasions and had, since given his communication devices, not contacted child services.

Reborn was as good as his and they both knew it.

Rauji finished getting dressed and, with a subtle look at Reborn, pressed a chaste kiss to Lambo's cheek. "I love you."

"Love you too." Lambo looked pained as he said it, but Rauji didn't notice.

Reborn watched him leave, that rage not calming in the least. Love? Love. There were too many definitions of love. What was love?

He reached out.

'_Love hurts…'_

'_I live for love!'_

'_Love? It's fake! Get over it!'_

'_I just want to find my one true love…'_

'_I love you! Please don't go, please don't…'_

'_I can't help it. I love him.'_

'_I love her, can't you see? Please, don't make me leave her.'_

Love sounded painful.

Lambo came out of the bathroom. Reborn had been too focused inwardly to outwardly acknowledge him leaving. He still wore the sheet, but his hands were down and clean as he reached and picked Reborn up. "_Yare, yare_, you're such a handful… Well, at least that saves me for a little while longer."

"What?" Reborn blinked up at him.

Lambo ran a hand through his hair. "You're not going to understand this – you're still really young – but I used to love Rauji. Now… I don't." He smiled sadly. "I wish I did. He's a huge sweetheart and he needs someone to be sweet to. People are so ignorant, disregarding him because he looks strange."

Love was not an automatic, controllable emotion? He looked into it for a small moment.

No, it was completely the opposite.

His hands tightened in the sheet that wrapped around Lambo's chest. He rested his cheek against his heart and listened to his life. Reborn could, in essence, end it before it had begun; he had that power. He had the power to do many things.

Except, he learned in a very small second in which the universe was destroyed and rebuilt, _love_. Because he… loved?

He loved?

He loved Lambo?

He loved what was his.

Yes, that made more sense. Replace Lambo, an independent humanoid, with an object that could be owned. That made matters clear to him, he was not being jealous, but only… protective.

Possessive was the word, but, then again, Lambo was his possess_ion_.

"You're mine."

"What's this all of a sudden? Reborn, I don't belong to anyone…" He gasped, fell short, and collapsed to his knees in Reborn's room.

And he groaned, eyes glazed over with pleasure, body throbbing, shaking, face flushed, and then he _screamed_. His arms were like bands of steel around Reborn, unable to let go though some part of his brain registered that he should. Beneath Reborn, the sheets became wet.

Lambo panted and gradually came back to himself. He turned pale. "W-what? Oh, oh no… R-Reborn, oh no…"

Pedophile. Pervert. Two of the names Lambo started calling himself as he realized he had just climaxed with him in his lap.

Reborn… smirked. That was the proper word for it, as his lips turned upwards with bad intentions in mind. That too was one of his many abilities.

He could do many things.

He could own Lambo with pleasure.

He touched a fingertip to Lambo's forehead and the thoughts cleared away like they had never been. "You're mine," he repeated.

The teenager stared down at him with dawning horror.

"Mine."

~::~

Lambo didn't speak to him for two days. Or, for that matter, anyone, which brought to Reborn's attention just how many lives Lambo had included himself in and how well he communicated with them throughout the hours of a single day.

His older adopted brother, who was the one putting Lambo through high school and was paying for his apartment, called most frequently, seconded only by a man named Ryohei and then thirdly by a Hayato Gokudera, who played off every one of his phone calls as an annoyance. Three girls called in succession, than a man, one of the same girls again, and then Lambo's school called demanding to know where he was.

Reborn grew frustrated with the teenager's withdrawal. Obviously, life could not be put on hold simply because he was emotionally imbalanced as of the moment.

He strutted into Lambo's bedroom and stared at the boy as the boy stared blankly at the ceiling.

"… What are you?" His voice was hoarse from disuse. A tear trailed down his cheek. "You're not human, are you?"

"No." He had never made that claim.

"And you don't have a heart either, do you?" He raised a hand, slowly, and pinched the bridge of his noise as if it could contain his dizzying thoughts – some of which were so frequent and powerful, Reborn could hear him screaming though he made not a sound. "I always j-just played it o-off… thinking that b-because I wasn't listening f-for it didn't mean it w-wasn't there… But it's not there! So you e-either have no h-heart or it's just not beating – are you a _vampire_?"

He searched the universe for the meaning of this word. "No."

"Then what _are_ you?"

"I am an advanced life form."

Lambo paled and sat up suddenly, twisting himself until he nearly fell off the opposite side of the bed from Reborn. "You're an _alien_?"

"… Yes."

"What are you doing here on earth?"

"Relieving my boredom."

Some tension leaked away. "So you're… not here to kill all humans?"

"Why would I bother doing that? The Human Race will become extinct within a few millennia by all their own devices, I don't have to intervene to cause that."

"You _know_ that?"

"I know everything."

"You don't act like it."

"I know everything about the _universe_. Specifics are not mine to be concerned about, such as earthen languages, vocabulary, customs, and such."

"So…" Lambo bit down on his bottom lip. "… H-how old are you… really?"

He knew exactly how old he was – but there wasn't a number to define his age. "Older than you," he settled for after a pause. "And everyone who came before you."

Lambo went limp with relief. "Thank goodness…"

"It concerned you that much? My age?"

"Well, yeah. I'd rather be with an old geezer than a little kid!" Then his expression turned stormy. "With an old geezer that isn't _you_, anyway. _Yare, yare_, what exactly did you do to me that day anyway?"

"The human body is easily manipulated. I manipulated your body."

"But you didn't even do anything!"

"I did everything. I do everything."

"… _Are_ you everything?"

"No. I am nothing."

"That makes no sense."

"Is oxygen a living organism or something that was once or will be in a relative stage of being as to be considered alive?"

"No…"

"Then I'm like oxygen. Except I'm the entire opposite thing."

"Now you're just screwing with my head." Lambo sighed and flopped back down on the bed. "I don't know about this. What all can you do, Mr. Alien?"

Reborn hopped up next to him and reached out a small hand, tangling it in Lambo's wavy tresses. The teen froze beneath his touch, one emerald green eye pinning him with great fear and slight curiosity.

Reborn petted him. "Anything I want to."

"Except be taller than two feet."

"I can do that too. But making this body alone took a great amount of time. Making a second, larger one would take significantly longer."

"… That's not your body?"

"No. My true form is of nebulous proportions, roughly the size of the universe." Lambo paled. "This is a suit I made for myself in seventy-two earthen years."

"O-_oh_…" Lambo's face planted into the blankets. Every muscle in his body relaxed.

He had fainted.

Reborn frowned. Was this normal?

Under the circumstances, he learned, it was actually a very calm reaction.

~::~

"Mr. I-Know-All-That-Happens-In-The-Universe, why hasn't it occurred to you to just _grow_?"

Reborn stopped, coffee midway to his mouth, and stared through the newspaper he had come to find was halfway interesting over the past few months he had been staying with Lambo.

Also, he should have tried coffee earlier in his existence.

Both humanly comforts were beside the point at the moment.

"… Why has that just occurred to you?" he asked Lambo.

The teenager crossed his arms petulantly across his chest, soupy ladle splattering across the kitchen island as he did so and dinner boiling contentedly behind him. "Don't try and turn this back on me. You say you can do anything, can't you just grow into an adult like everyone else in the world?"

In theory, he could. He could grow his suit to appear as old, if not older than, as Lambo within minutes to a week. The body was already made, created from intergalactic materials, and would be durable against vast and instant change.

Lambo watched him think this over. "_Yare, yare_, are you sure you're not a robot instead of an alien? I keep waiting for you to say 'Does not compute'."

"Why would I say that?"

"Because nothing seems to compute with you," Lambo said simply and turned back to the food in progress.

Reborn's nasal cavities picked up the oddly delicious scent of pasta, garlic, onions, and other herbs. Though he required no nutrients – at least none that could be supplied on earth – his mouth watered in want.

Yes. He wanted food. And then, when his body was done digesting it, he could give it off as pure energy expelled through the pores of his suit instead of… the unpleasant process in which humans relieved themselves.

Lambo stilled locked the bathroom door behind him, though they both knew Reborn could get in if he wanted.

Why?

Because Reborn could do anything.

That had already been settled.

His fake eyes stared into the murky depths of his hot beverage as he let the rest of him wander, determining his next step.

"I will grow," he finally said, "and replace Rauji as your lover."

Lambo sputtered. "You're not going to do that – _that_ thing again, are you?" His arms crossed more protectively than angrily across his torso, body tense in remembrance.

Reborn's eyes were attracted downwards and Lambo followed his gaze a second later.

"Y-You pervert!" He spun on his heel and faced the stove, consequently hiding his erection.

"Your body suggests that you want me to do _that_ thing again."

"You can read my mind, can't you? What does my mind suggest?"

He listened. "As long as I'm small like this, you won't enjoy anything marginally sexual I do to you. Even this conversation is unnerving."

"_Yare, yare_… Do you see now? As a human, I can't control what my body says – it's physical, after all – so you're going to, _I can't believe I'm about to say this_, read my mind to know the truth. Though I would _prefer_ if you just ask me."

"I understand." He sipped his coffee. "No, I have never experienced pleasure." He didn't have to see Lambo's face to know that the boy had flushed scarlet red. "I haven't had the occasion to experience pain either."

The teenager cleared his throat guiltily. "I-I take it back. Don't read my mind."

~::~

It took twenty-four hours and a surprise visit from a _sweet_, lustful Rauji before he completed the aging process to a stage of life he found acceptable.

Actually, he surpassed that stage of life by an estimated seven and a half years. One moment, he was concentrating, thinking inwardly to the body he had created in the nest of his hammock. In the next, he was listening to Lambo's stuttered attempts to tell an oblivious Rauji that they couldn't go out anymore and the jealousy – oh, the jealousy…

It created a vast energy source, solely of emotion, for him to use as a catalyst.

In a sudden earthquake of depleted, hot energy (of which shook the entire town in the form of an earthquake), Lambo yelped and fell backwards and Rauji defensively stood his ground.

Reborn smirked, yet again, and reached his mind out for the teenager. Rauji's thoughts were gentle, sweet, warm – he was not one of the many humanoid creatures who had filthy ideas about Lambo.

But he loved Lambo – his Lambo – and that was not acceptable.

Lambo, still on the ground, and Reborn could see this through the walls of their apartment, tensed, arched perfectly, and cried out as his body went into overdrive, feeling euphoric without being touched, and his green, green eyes glazed over as he panted and whimpered and keened.

Rauji's first thought was perverted – even someone like him would not have been able to help that – but his next was to help.

Reborn stepped out of his bedroom, which would no longer be his bedroom from this day onward. Lambo's bedroom would be his. They would sleep together (in both senses of the word, as he had discovered _lovers_ did).

"I wouldn't touch him if I were you."

Rauji paused, turned his massive body to look at him, and recognition tried to flare into his dull red eyes but failed to. "Do I know you?"

Reborn tipped his fedora low over his black eyes, the eyes of the universe, and put his other hand in the pocket of his black slacks – it was as easy to form clothing out of thin air as he had first supposed.

It was easy to make anything out of thin air. That was how the universe had been made.

"Lambo is… breaking up with you," he said instead of answering. Rauji's expression went slack. Lambo sobbed and turned onto his side, curling into himself as his hands tried to touch his body. They shook too much to give him the relief he needed. Reborn was purposefully holding him just off the edge of an orgasm. "He's mine now."

Rauji said nothing for a long moment. And then he turned back to the teenager. "Lambo? Lambo, are you al-" He stood straight. His mouth closed.

He walked out the door and closed it silently behind himself.

Come morning, he would remember Lambo being his young friend – never his bedmate. Reborn asked himself a rhetorical question: Aren't I kind?

He could have just made it so Rauji had never been born.

Reborn stood over Lambo's wriggling, undulating body, watching how sweat stuck his clothes to his skin, how he gasped for air, how he looked desperately up at him. "R-R-Rebornnnnn?"

"I'm physically attractive and exactly 23 and nine months old. I am both younger and better looking than Rauji. Do you accept this?"

He nodded viciously, nearly throwing his neck out of place, and bit it his bottom lip till it bled. "P-PLEEEAAASSSE!" His arms came out towards Reborn, tears trickling down his fiery cheeks. "_Pleeaassse…_"

He knew how to take care of this mess.

He reached out his mind.

Now he knew how to take care of this mess. In many ways. In many cultures. On many planets. With many objects. But the most popular one to use on earth seemed to be the one between his legs. And he was to insert it into Lambo after a considerable amount of foreplay.

He picked Lambo up into his arms, teenager winding himself around him, and entered their bedroom.

Lambo wouldn't let go long enough for them to strip, so he simply had to dissipate their clothing. Long, naked legs wrapped around his hips and held on seemingly for dear life as sharp teeth found the junction of his shoulder and neck and bit down hard.

Reborn's eyes widened. There had been a flash of pain. In the pit of his abdominal cavity, he felt a stirring of heat. Arousal? Yes. He was aroused by this. The pain or Lambo's desperation? Both.

He didn't make it to the bed. Instead, he rested him against the wall, reaching into him and causing him more pleasure. Lambo choked on it, eyes rolling slightly, and he released Reborn in favor of breathing, which he appeared to fail to due as drool came down his chin. His thighs were quivering around him and his erection spurted regularly with pre-cum.

He touched a finger to the gland and listened to Lambo scream his name. Slowly, his hand followed and he rubbed the length of his penis.

Lambo…

Fainted.

Reborn frowned. So there was a limit to how much pleasure the human body could endure before it went into a comatose state? Interesting.

He pushed his hips into Lambo's, holding him up with that and one hand on his hip (though he honestly needed neither) as his legs went limp and dangled off his waist. His other hand brushed across Lambo's forehead. "Wake up."

Lambo did so. He woke up crying and screaming and blind with pleasure. His chest was red from how hard he was breathing and his legs became a vice around him once more.

He had the vague realization that anymore foreplay could very much kill the teenager. The next time they performed coitus, he would have to experiment with the human way of arousal instead of merely bringing him to a high.

There was really only one thing left for him to do.

His fingers slid into Lambo's gaping mouth and Lambo, though nearly gone in mind, knew to clamp down and suck. His eyes closed as his hands came shakily up to hold his wrist in place, as if this pacifier-like action brought him some comfort.

He almost felt… regret? Regret, when he pulled them away, slick and wet and ready for the next deed. Lambo was feeling it too as he glared at him, tried to say something, and couldn't.

Reborn brought his other hand up, moving his body back so he could worm his lubricated fingers closer to their destination, and caressed Lambo's cheek.

There was a long moment where Lambo held onto that hand with both of his own again, keening and whimpering and whispering nonsense as his eyes closed and he gave himself into the feeling of fingers thrusting up into him.

Then his eyes snapped open with a look of horror.

"Levitation isn't so difficult," Reborn told him. "Even humans can do it if they put enough concentration into it." He reached in and soothed Lambo's mind. "Don't think about it."

He didn't because Reborn didn't let him. "M-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m…"

"More." Reborn twisted his hand, lengthened his fingers, and found the teenager's prostate. "You want more."

"AAAH! C-c-c-ca-"

"You can take it." He removed his digits and replaced it with his own erection.

He was rather fascinated by it, really. He had required no fondling himself to come to such a degree of stimulation. Simply by watching Lambo and have his pleasure affect him had been enough.

Was this the appropriate length of a penis?

No.

It was longer.

He listened and heard good things about that, though, so he pushed himself inside of his _lover_ until his sac was pressed against the curve of his buttocks.

Lambo's hands scrabbled at his shoulders, creating long, red furrows in his pale skin, and stared at him with incredibly wide, unseeing eyes. He felt the teenager's pain and pleasure mix and mingle till he wasn't sure if it was pain _or_ pleasure.

Reborn smirked. It seemed to be a favorite thing of his to do. And then he released his hold on Lambo's orgasm as he pushed into him again…

And again…

And again…

Again…

Again…

And again.

For four hours.

Lambo came seven times, the last five climaxes dry.

He slept for two days afterwards.

~::~

Since his first, hands on experience with sex, Reborn found himself… obsessed.

Every time Lambo was walking away from, his eyes were irrevocably drawn to the curve of his buttocks, to the subtle sway of his hips. Every time Lambo looked at him, he found himself staring at his pouty, pink lips or his – and this was a new term for him – "bedroom" eyes. He had fantasies – _fantasies_, images that flashed through his head that weren't even _real_ – of pushing Lambo up against a wall and… hurting him? Making love to him?

… Fucking him.

Yes, he wanted to fuck Lambo from today onwards, never let him leave the apartment again, teach Lambo all he had learned of how to pleasure one's partner throughout the entire universe. He wanted those exhausted tears on his tongue, that trembling, aching body pressed against him, Lambo's desperate cries in his ear, _"Reborn! Reboooornnn!"_

He wanted it all.

And then he realized, with the object of his demented thinking waving in his face, that he had been fantasizing… _again_. How could he, who had an ear and eye in all existences, not notice Lambo coming so close to him?

He could smell him, like tart grapes and caramel. Reborn looked up.

"_Yare, yare_, took you long enough." He held out two movies. "Which do you want to see?"

Reborn listened. Then he grabbed the movie on the left and incinerated it in his palm.

"H-hey!"

"It's a terrible movie. It will only disturb you." Rape. Anal rape. Abandonment. Dirty family secrets. Lambo would walk around for days after watching that movie, blank and horrified. The foundations of the very creature named Lambo was built on strong family bonds and, yes, _love_.

He was honestly a thing that could not be left to his own devices, though Reborn didn't doubt he could survive on his own. It was merely a matter of _wanting_ to be.

He was becoming painfully familiar with want as of late.

"_I_ didn't know that… you stingy bastard. There, I said it! You're a stingy bastard!"

Reborn caught him by his wrist and pushed him down onto the floor, following after him. His lips crashed against Lambo's, tongue delving in, and he molested his mouth as well as he molested his body with his hands, clothes disappearing with just a touch and then his skin was against Lambo's skin.

"W-w-wha?"

"You were thinking it," Reborn answered. "I was thinking it."

"D-don't read my mind any-y-more- OH GOODNESS!"

Maybe it wasn't such a terrible thing to be addicted to the boy. And it was addiction.

After all, the boy was just as addicted to him.

~::~

It was Friday, exactly two years after Lambo had found Reborn.

The depression began wordlessly, thoughtlessly. Reborn could only feel the swirl of dark emotions as they enveloped Lambo. He asked more frequently for intercourse, gave more, responded more, begged for more, whined more. He did everything _more_, but there was something wrong about the gleam of his eyes. Like he was just as desperate as he sounded.

Tuesday of the next week was when the thoughts began to form.

'_He's an alien…'_

'_He can do anything. If he can do anything, he can _do_ anything and then he could have anything and he… wouldn't want…'_

'Yare, yare_, I can help wondering when he'll leave…'_

'_If I'm one in a million and he really likes me, he can find millions of me in the universe, can't he?'_

'_He's not going to age, is he? I'm going to grow old and he'll be whatever age he wants to be and he won't want me anymore.'_

'_Does Reborn like-like me? Love me? Even if he does, he'll get bored of me at some point.'_

And then…

'_I have to break up with him before he hurts me.'_

There was a word for Lambo Reborn hadn't used in a while: Coward.

He was ready when the boy approached him, eyes downcast and hands tight on the hem of his shirt. "R-Reborn, I have something I w-want to tell y-…" He gulped. Swallowed audibly. Tears trickled down his face and his fingers trembled nervously.

'_I can't do it! I can't do it! J-just tolerate… Tolerate… Tolerate! But… he likes me for now, right? Can't I stay like this for however long it lasts?'_

His lips thinned out. His wavy black hair fell into his tragic expression.

'_No.'_

"Reborn, I have something I want to tell you," he whispered, but at least he didn't stutter. It was all the more heartrending, sounding so resigned. "I think you –"

"No."

Lambo jerked. "… How long have you been in my mind?"

"Ever since these doubts of yours started."

"Then do what I think anyway."

He reached out, as he oh so often found himself doing, and snagged Lambo by his waist, dragging him into his lap where his weight settled familiarly if not tensely. He refused to meet Reborn's gaze.

"You are one in three and half billion across the universe. There are an estimated seven billion people better than you and as many worse than you. I could become the richest being alive on thirteen different planets and could rule several other ones. I could, in essence, find one of nine thousand, two hundred, and thirty-nine other organisms in which I am more compatible with than you." He tilted Lambo's head up and stared at those watery eyes that refused to stare back at him. "I don't need you. I could very easily replace you."

He teased Lambo's mouth with the tip of his finger till it opened on a shaky sigh.

"I want you," he went on to say and listened to Lambo's heart stop, his breath hitch, his dizzying thoughts come to a screeching halt. "I will want you for a very long time."

"H-how long?"

"Long. Long enough that you won't be aging for a while."

"I-I have to age at some point… people will notice that I'm…" He groaned, eyes becoming glazed over. "N-n-no…"

Reborn sat back on the couch and watched Lambo shiver and tremble in his lap, lazily thrusting his hips up against the crease of Lambo's clothed ass. The pleasure twisted through the boy till he could think of nothing but the pleasure, could not feel anything but the pleasure, did not want anything but the pleasure.

"No one will notice. Just like how no one knew you and Rauji were once together. Like how no one knew you were out of commission for two days. Do you understand, Lambo? I can do anything."

"N-n-noooo… _No_, no, c-c-can't…"

"Can't?"

He listened.

The thought came slowly through the haze of Lambo's euphoria. Then he smirked. "You've found the only thing in the universe I can't do. Good for you." Their clothes disappeared with a snap of his fingers, which he had come to find was a classy way to start things. The sudden sound made Lambo jerk.

"Let me show you what I can do."

And he did.

~::~

_Two hundred years later…_

"Let me show you what I can do."

And he did.

Reborn titled his head back and flexed his hands in their binds. He closed his eyes and admitted silently to himself that that foursome had been a wonderful, fantastic idea.

It had been better than the orgy last week.

But not as good as what the foursome had taught his lover.

"I can read your mind."

He knew that. He had given his lover the ability to do so, after realizing that the one-sided readings were getting dull. Their lives had gotten much more interesting since giving such a gift.

And then he smirked.

'_Remember that one time in Venice where I wanted your mouth on my cock and you got down on your knees right in the middle of the street?'_

His lover hummed and suckled and thought back, _'Remember how no one tried to stop me?'_

'_They were thinking we looked like art in motion.'_

'_They were thinking it was part of the Gay Pride Parade.'_

Reborn's smirk grew. _'We weren't in the Gay Pride Parade. That was two streets down.'_

'_We must have just gotten lost,'_ his lover teased. His teeth scraped.

He didn't have to look at him to know that his incredible green eyes glowed.

'_And that time…'_ his lover began in a soft, sultry voice, _'I wanted you to rim me and you did…'_

'_Ah, yes… The Queen of England was very upset about that.'_

'_She was having dirty thoughts.'_

'_She was a very respectable woman till we came along.'_

'_You didn't have to do it.'_

'_I wanted to.'_

'_Then why complain?'_

'_Me? Complain? That's your job.'_

Boredom had led them to do many great, dangerous things, hadn't it? Two hundred years together, experimenting, rolling with the times, watching cars lose their wheels and freedoms be lost and gained. They had nearly seen the world end three times, had been there for the first alien invasion (that hadn't been Reborn), had been there for the first intergalactic marriage (which hadn't been them), and watched the ironic overabundance of carnivorous pandas make China inhabitable.

Brain transplants were possible. Leotards were popular. Anyone who said the name "Paul" was killed where they stood (and that was a part of history even Lambo couldn't talk about in fear of bursting into tears and developing murderous thoughts).

Two hundred years together…

And Reborn could say it.

'_Say what?'_

'_You know what.'_

'_I don't know… you're going to have to be very clear with me, or else I won't understand.'_

He could see his lover's devious smirk in his mind. He snarled as his lower body was continuously teased, ass and cock, with that incredible mouth, those well-learned hands.

'_I love you.'_

He opened his eyes, finally, and his lover crawled back up his body to balance over his hard, aching cock. His green, green gaze glowed and his smile showed. Black wavy hair had been braided down his shoulders and tattoos from different generations inked his creamy skin. His rips rose, sharp bones riding against the skin, erection bobbing, and then he sank down on Reborn's dick, taking it deep in that tight body, and Reborn growled.

He had taken special care over the centuries to keep that body as cozy as the first time he had entered it. To keep this boy as young as the day he had met him. But no matter what he could do and did do, there was something he couldn't do. He hadn't been able to do it then and he couldn't do it now.

His lover pressed a finger to his lips, grinning down at him, flushed but wise, shivering but posed, and he rolled against him with a cry from his pouty lips.

'_Why are you thinking of something else but me?'_

'_That is a very good question.'_

'_You should stop. You should focus all of you… on all of me.'_

And he did. Because his lover was ethereal, desperate, beautiful, amazing, incredible, and _his_. His, his, his, no matter how they entertained themselves.

"Reb-" _'-orn!'_

'_Lambo…'_

There was one thing he couldn't do.

In his two hundred years with Lambo, it had never mattered.

~::~

_Author's Note: … ALIENS. I want them to visit earth._


End file.
